Agony and Ashes
by Labrynth
Summary: Journal entries after Jill's return from Africa.
1. April - June 2009

Disclaimer: Not my characters.

**April 12, 2009**

Chris brought me this journal, told me to work through it. I don't know what he was thinking exactly. It's not like I'll ever be the same again. Not like I'll ever be me again.

Back for a few weeks now and I think it would have been easier if they'd just left me there. I know Chris means well, I know Sheva thought she was saving me, but I should have died.

I thought I was going to die that day. Taking Wesker out the window.

But for some reason I was saved. And I wish like hell I hadn't. This is worse. Seeing everyone look at me. Some of them with pity, some of them with disgust. Some of them think I should have just been put down like a rabid dog.

I couldn't agree more.

Every day they come in with P30. Just a little less every day. I don't know if Wesker knew he was creating a dependance on it. Either way it's not like he would care.

Chris stays then. Always. Refuses to allow anyone near me until it has run it's course. He's always felt the need to protect me, though now I can't even remember why.

I haven't slept for days. All the noise. The nurses coming in and out of my room. I just can't…. They all want another piece of me. More blood, more samples, more more more.

I just want to be left alone. Why the fuck can't you people just leave me alone? Put me in the fucking looney bin where I belong if you won't kill me and _LEAVE. ME. ALONE._

Every time I ask Chris why he won't just leave he gives me that look. The one that says I should know better. "You know why."

But I don't. I don't know anything any more. I just want to….

I just want to stop the screaming in my head.

**April 30, 2009**

Chris told me there would only be another week of P30. Apparently my body is quite resilient these days and adapts quickly. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think I should be interested in this fact, but I'm not. Maybe that's why the doctors have given up talking to me and only deal with him now. You'd think we were married or something the way they defer to him about me.

Whatever. The sooner I can get out of here the sooner I can just disappear. Be gone. I know it will be hard on him, but he'll survive. Somehow he always does. He made it almost three years without me. He'll adjust.

The screaming in my head never goes away. I hear it constantly: shrieks, cries and horrified wailing. Sometimes I think it's my own. Sometimes I think I'm just going fucking crazy.

Last night I woke up screaming. I had begged Chris not to let me fall asleep. He just gave me that look, like you would give a child, before he lay next to me in this tiny bed.

I woke up, clawing my chest, tearing open the fresh scars. "Get it off me!" My voice didn't even sound like my own.

"Shh," he told me, grasping my hands, pulling them away. "It's not there Jill. It's gone. You're ok."

But I don't feel ok. I don't feel much of anything. But that's better than the other options.

He didn't bat an eye at the blood I drew on myself. If only he knew how badly I wanted to claw all of it out of my body. Rip it out of my flesh. But it's there and it can never be removed.

And yet, he's still here. Still feeling guilty. Still trying to reassure me.

And I still don't understand why.

**May 7, 2009**

A therapist. Right. Because that's going to help. Let's talk about our "feelings". Here's a feeling for you bitch. Go to Hell. Stop trying to get into my head. You wouldn't survive it if you did. Go to Hell and leave me alone.

You want a mental assessment? Here it is. You people declared me DEAD. You left me to DIE and now you want me to play your games.

You can all go to hell.

I hope you rot there.

**May 10, 2009**

I'm begging you… please Chris, stop looking at me like that. Like you know who I am. Like I'm still Jill Valentine.

I'm not. Somewhere along the way he managed to kill her. I don't know where or when exactly, I just know one morning I woke up and I wasn't her anymore.

I was this _thing_. This defiled, tainted, unclean _thing_. Contaminated and vile.

I don't know what I am any more, but I know I'm not her. And if you keep expecting me to be I will only hurt you.

But every time I open my mouth to tell you the words won't come out. All those years and you could read me so easily. Why can't you now? Why can't you see the truth?

Because I'm not _her_. That's why.

I'm begging you, please, just let Jill Valentine go.

**June 1, 2009**

Oh God is it never going to end? Will I be living with this for the rest of my life?

Chris touched me, innocently, on the arm, and all I could think was how to get away. My mind thought of, and rejected, a dozen ways to keep him off me. Keep him from touching me. I kept expecting the attack, the pain that always followed. Felt the panic clog my throat.

But he would never. And I _know_ this to be true. As much as I know my own name. As much as I know how to tie my shoes.

If this is how my life is going to be then it wasn't worth coming back from the dead.

**June 15, 2009**

It's been almost 3 months since I returned from Africa and I still find myself unable to sleep most nights. They keep trying to pump me full of drugs "For my own good" and I keep refusing them. I guess they don't understand what it's like to have all of your control taken from you, forcing your body to do things your mind is screaming at you to stop. I don't care if I ever sleep again, not as long as they stay away from me with that shit.

Chris has given up trying to go home I think. He says I sleep better when he's here. He's probably right. It's not like it matters though. When I do sleep I see the same things over and over again. People screaming, being ripped apart, mutating… all of it done by my own hands.

And I see him, begging me to remember. The hurt on his face, the lack of understanding.

He says he forgives me, that there's nothing to forgive really. But I catch him sometimes, looking at me when he doesn't think I know. And for once in our lives, I can't read him. Maybe it's just as well. He did his duty to me… he found me. Brought me back. I don't want him suffering with me. It's not fair to him.

The head doc says all of this is normal. Like that stupid bitch would ever understand normal. Have a device attached to your chest, pumping chemicals into you until all you can do is what they tell you. Protect someone with your life that you have hated for so long. Be his slave, his punching bag, his rag doll.

Then you can tell me about it. Just the sound of her voice makes me want to scream. She doesn't know me. No one knows me. Not any more.

I don't even know myself…

He should have let me die in Africa. He should have pulled the trigger and killed me.

But he didn't. And I don't understand why.

**June 29, 2009**

No more.

No more blood. No more samples. No more tests.

No more.

I can't do this with them anymore. I won't do this with them any more. If they think they're being kinder than Wesker was, they're sorely mistaken.

So no more.

When I ran the nurse out Chris smiled at me. A real smile. Not the one he's been giving me all these weeks now. I almost had to laugh, if I remembered how. Had I known a simple act of defiance would have amused him so much, maybe I'd have done it before now. Then again, I don't think he'd appreciate most of the acts that pop into my mind.

When she left he looked at me and told me "Tomorrow we start training again. You've had enough time to lay around."

He also promised to find out when I could leave here. I'm not entirely sure where I'll go. My apartment has since been long gone. Not that I was staying in it much before this anyway. I guess I'll have to find a new one. Eventually.

Since no one sees fit to allow me to die then I suppose I have to figure out how to at least exist again.


	2. July - Sept 2009

**July 6, 2009**

I'm told I will be able to leave here in a week. I'm not entirely sure where it is I'm supposed to go since I no longer have an apartment. Chris shook his head at me when I asked. At some point he apparently had the things he packed up of mine taken out of storage and to his place.

I'm not entirely sure what I think about this yet. I know I can't give him what he wants from me. And will likely never be able to again. But it's not like I have somewhere else to go. I've told him this and he just smiles at me. It's just shy of being patronizing, and I don't think that's his intent. Maybe he thinks Wesker addled my brain along with the rest of me.

I don't know.

The head doc had the nerve to ask how I felt about leaving the hospital. Really? How the hell do you think I feel? I'm not sure I've ever met such a inane woman in my entire life. She seems to think everyone should just tell her every intimate detail of their lives, make her their new best friend. Bake cookies and have tea together.

I mostly want to shoot her in the head. If only to make her shut the hell up.

I'm not allowed to do such things, per Chris, but he seemed to sympathize with the sentiment. He said he's working on finding me someone new. That this stupid bitch obviously doesn't now "how to deal with you very well."

I can't say he's wrong.

Otherwise I've been given a clean bill of health. I am now allowed to move freely about without someone hovering over me. They also give me real cutlery now instead of plastic stuff. I'm almost amused by this.

It just all seems so asinine. What's the point of any of this really? What kind of life can I possibly return to? There's nothing here anymore. That part of me is gone, forever lost.

And yet I find myself trying to figure out how to fake it. If I can fake it well enough, then they'll leave me alone.

**July 20, 2009**

I feel like I haven't slept in months. Maybe I haven't. I know I haven't slept in days. Not since I left the hospital. I thought maybe the quiet would help. The constant noise of the hospital grated, scoured my skin like steel wool.

But the quiet is worse. The screaming is louder here.

**July 22, 2009**

I made the mistake of telling Chris about the screaming. He didn't say anything but it worried him. After all he's done I don't want that. I want him to walk away, cut me out of his life. Move on and be happy.

Instead he insists on sitting with me until I fall asleep. If I fall asleep. Usually I wake up and find him asleep in the chair next to the bed when I do sleep.

He has, however, stopped the appointments with the head doc. One more session with her and I might be forced to kill her with my bare hands. I've done it before. It wouldn't take much.

We start physical training tomorrow. I hope it will make me so tired I can't help but sleep. That it will quiet the voices. I don't know that they will eve be silent. I'd be happy if they would just move to background noise. I want to gouge my ear drums out. Even though I know it's not the source of the screeching and wailing, but perhaps the pain would override it.

Pain is the only constant. Is it better than feeling nothing? I don't know.

**July 31, 2009**

It seems he had no plans to stay at the apartment. "Too confining" was all he told me.

Instead we have arrived at the cabin. I remember all the time we've spent here in the past. I know I have been happy here before. But I feel nothing.

Aside from the pull out couch, there's only the one bedroom here. I told him to take it… it's not like I sleep much anyway… but he refused.

We finally started training. Right now it's mostly jogs on the beach. A lot harder than I remember. My muscles can't take the beating they used to. Too many months around the hospital have made them weaker than they have been in years.

At least I feel like I can breathe here. If the walls feel like they're closing in around me I can walk outside, sit on the beach. The waves are soothing at least. And they drown out the noise in my head. For while anyway.

**August 8, 2009**

It's peaceful here. Sometimes I can even hear my own thoughts instead of the incessant shrieking I usually hear.

Aside from jogging Chris has decided to throw me into Tai Chi. I've never done it before and it's different than I'm used to. Controlled movements that flow into one another. When I asked why this he said I'd had enough violence for a while. I need "peace". Still not entirely sure what he means, but it seems to make him feel better.

Night are still hard. Since he's downstairs I pace up in the bedroom. When he hears me he usually comes up, put me back into bed, pulls the sheet up and lays behind me. "Sleep," he tells me. Somehow it works, usually.

I just want my mind to be still. Quiet. I think if I could get there then I could survive. Function in the world. It would be enough everyone would stop worrying, leave me alone.

Chris asked me yesterday if I wanted visitors. It seems Claire and Rebecca have been asking to see me. Why? They wrote me off as dead and suddenly they want to be friends again?

No. I don't want visitors.

**August 14, 2009**

I woke up screaming. Again. Except it must have been in my head. I could feel Wesker's hands around my throat, could hear to tick of his watch as he counted down exactly how many seconds it took for me to stop struggling as he tried to choke the life out of me. He would wait until the stars exploded behind my eyes and the black fog took my vision down to small spots directly in front of me. Then he'd let go, allow me a few breaths, and start again. The entire time he was smiling. Once he told me if he didn't hate Chris so much he'd have just killed me out right.

Instead I'm his revenge against Chris. Because he can't hurt the one he wants, he takes it out on me.

My own hands clawed at my throat, trying to pull away phantom hands. I left marks on my own neck before I realized where I was. The blanket he had laid over me on the floor. I must have fallen asleep on the couch.

I stood by the bed for maybe a minute before he woke up. When he did he didn't say anything, just moved over and held out a hand to me. I took it and he pulled me in, pulling the blankets up over the both of us. I had to make myself relax as he rolled me onto my side and pulled me close. His warmth against my back was soothing and I closed my eyes as he wrapped his arms around me.

He probably wasn't even fully awake. At least his voice didn't sound like it when he whispered into my hair, "You're safe Jill. Safe."

**August 25, 2009**

The cryo tank was the worst. Depending on how badly I was damaged I would spend days, sometimes weeks in there. The fluid would begin to rise, just above body temperature so it should have been like a warm bath. But it wasn't. It was like a flood I knew would drown me. And I'd claw at the glass every time.

He would stand outside and watch. Drinking my panic like some kind of fine cognac.

I could remain still, show no emotion through everything. Everything except that. And he knew it. So he never let me heal on my own, he always put me in there.

Last time though, he pulled me out early. Bones still hadn't quite healed, I could feel my ribs, a handful of them broken, still grating against each other. Wesker pulled me out, letting me fall to the ground. He placed a kick to my already broken ribs and demanded to know.

Know what? I had no idea. I wasn't even awake at that point, somewhere between the two worlds. The pain that shot out from the point of contact made me open my eyes. Maybe they had almost been healed but he had refractured them completely I was sure.

"What were you dreaming about?" he demanded, pulling me up by my arms. He shook me and my teeth rattled against each other. "What did you dream you bitch?"

I wasn't sure to be honest. Hell I didn't even know how long I'd been in there. I said nothing. I was safer that way. No answer I could give him would keep him from striking out.

True to form he threw me down, this time his boot connecting with the side of my head. I felt the nausea rise, tried to force it back. Thankfully there was nothing in my stomach so I only managed heaves.

It was then Chris' face swam into my vision and I suddenly knew what I had been dreaming about. He was looking for me. Chris hadn't believed me dead. He was looking for me and eventually he would find me.

I lost count of the number of blows. I don't think I was there for any of the rest of it either. But when he threw me back inside the tank he growled that I had been smiling.

I wasn't smiling now. I was so broken I couldn't even fight when the tank filled.

**September 1, 2009**

It's funny how certain things are never an issue simply because you've never thought of them. Then suddenly the option is taken away from you and it turns in your head over and over again.

I will never have children.

That's not exactly what the doctor had to say. He said "unlikely" if I remember correctly. Too much internal damage from a prior assault.

But I could tell by the tone of his voice what he really meant.

At no point in time have I ever truly considered children. Not with the kind of life I've lead until now.

And now it's not even an option.

He asked if I knew what had happened to cause the damage. I told him no.

But I remember. Every single detail.

And it's none of his fucking business.

**September 9, 2009**

The scars on my chest have flattened, no longer ridged holes of flesh. They're still pink, still shiny. But no longer puckered in my skin.

Chris asked if I wanted them removed. I told him I didn't know.

The day he put that thing on my chest I thought the barbs would kill me. They gouged my flesh, punched through skin, grated against bone as they sank in. I felt my heart flutter in my chest as they reach it, pumping chemicals directly inside. _No way to escape it now,_ I thought.

Maybe I should feel lucky they didn't rip my heart out of my chest when Chris removed it. Maybe one day I will.

**September 27, 2009**

It's getting colder now. I spent hours sitting on the beach yesterday. Looking across the grey waters that bled into grey skies, I realized that's how I felt. A cold, vast emptiness that will never be filled. A numbness that shows no signs of going away.

Eventually Chris joined me, first sitting in the second of the two chairs we built here just so we could sit and watch the water. Seems like a hundred years ago.

I didn't know I was crying until he said my name. When I didn't answer he moved behind me, somehow managing to get himself between me and the chair and held me. He asked what was wrong and I told him.

I feel nothing.

And I don't think I care.


	3. Oct - Dec 2009

**October 2, 2009**

He asked me about the voices. I didn't know what to tell him. I've never lied to him before and I know he won't appreciate it if I did it now.

But trying to explain it to him… it's not something he can possibly understand. No one can. No one has been there. And it upsets him. I see it in the way he carries himself, the clenching of his jaw.

Chris always did wear his heart on his sleeve. At least to me.

The BSAA has asked if I plan on returning. I find this funny on so many levels. You fuckers left me for dead. I don't want anything else to do with you. I gave my life in the line of duty and you couldn't even bother to look for me.

Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on them. I don't know. I just know it pisses me off. Anger is an emotion I suppose, but not a good one I guess. I don't know if it's easier being angry or dead inside.

**October 12, 2009**

The first time Wesker tried to force me to infect someone else I refused.

It didn't allow me to move against him, the P30 he had started pumping into my body by then. But I refused to move. Made my muscles lock down and remained immobile until it was finished.

He didn't allow disobedience from anyone, but especially me. I paid for it. But I was still proud of myself for being able to do it. Until then I'd been unable to throw off the effects of the P30 for anything.

It cost me two weeks in the cryo tank. But it was worth it.

**October 23, 2009**

It had only been six months or so since he'd started using the P30 on me. Using my body to perfect Uroboros took precedence. The P30 was merely an amusing after thought. I guess I should be thankful for small favors. Of those six months, the first was spent trying to get the initial dose right. Too little and he couldn't control me. Too much and I couldn't follow orders.

Every failure he had with it was my fault, of course. On occasion he'd blame Excella. She enjoyed his abuse, sometimes provoking him for a response.

Stupid bitch.

The second month was a bunch of small tasks. Designed to see how far he could push me. I don't think he intended for the enhanced strength or agility. At least he seemed surprised by it. And pleased. It meant he could push me that much harder. Combine that with the healing for cryo and he could throw all kinds of abuse at me. After a while it mostly blurred together anyway.

By the third month he figured out he couldn't keep up with injections so the device was designed.

He always hid my identity. I think he feared Chris would find out I was alive and come for me. Despite his talk, I believe he feared Chris. Perhaps he didn't define it as such, but no one else in the world posed a threat to him. Not even me. Only Chris.

**October 31, 2009**

Halloween used to always be my favorite holiday. Now it feels like a joke. After the real nightmare I lived, nothing scares me any more.

He asked if I wanted to do anything to celebrate. I told him I just wanted to stay at the cabin. He agreed, but insisted on reliving some of our prior Halloweens together, including some of the Halloween parties we swore would never be mentioned again. It made him laugh though, and it was nice to see. Even before this he's always been so serious. So focused.

I had forgotten how single minded he could be.

**November 11, 2009**

I don't remember exactly when it happened, but while in cryo I had a dream. It started as a memory. Of us in this very cabin. Of our first time together. Then it melted into something else. Something my over wrought brain had to be pulling out of thin air because any other possibility is well... impossible.

He was looking for me. Chris... he spent time going through my file... and Wesker's. Read everything he could on Umbrella over and over. At one point he was in a place called Edonia. I don't think I've ever heard of it. But he spoke with people there, asking about me. The lead got him nothing except another dead end. I saw him return to his hotel room. Get undressed and fall into bed.

Only to have the same dream as me. A shared dream. It's not possible. I know that.

But I felt a spark of hope in my heart. Was he really looking for me? Somewhere maybe I always dreamed it, but suddenly I believed it.

And then the hope turned to despair. Wesker would kill him. Or order me to do kill him. And I didn't know if I could refuse. Would Chris die, his blood on my hands?

I would have given anything then to make him believe me dead.

**November 20, 2009**

Chris came home with a dog today. Said he found him wandering outside the cabin. No other houses for miles out here so we have no idea where he came from. Some kind of black lab mutt. He looks young. Scared and scrawny. And lost.

I know how he feels.

Tomorrow he goes to the vet, to make sure he's all right. Chris said he would take him, but I think I want to go too. I haven't left the cabin in a few months now. He usually goes to get any supplies we need. Truthfully I haven't felt any reason to leave. I would be content to stay here forever right now.

We had talked about getting a dog... before. But with both of us gone so much, it never seemed like a good idea. This dog can't possibly know what he's gotten himself in to. Staying with me will only screw him up even more than he already is. I have that effect on things.

It's funny because when he asked me what we should call him a name popped into my head. I shrugged and asked him what he thought. After a few minutes he said "Louie. He looks like a Louie."

It was the same name that popped into my head.

**November 27, 2009**

Thanksgiving came and went and somehow I missed it entirely. Maybe because holidays rarely mean anything to us with all the field work. Or maybe I'm just not thankful for anything. I don't know.

Yes I do. But I'm not sure I want to think about it right now.

Louie is doing fine. He's shy, sometimes cowers at loud sounds. Not that there are a whole lot of those here as a general rule, but a few. I feel something stirring when I watch him try to hide. I know where he's coming from and I think no creature should ever have to feel that way

Vet said aside from being skinny, he is in good shape. He's already started putting on some weight. He brings the tennis ball to us every so often and seems to love the water. Chris won't let him on the bed at night, insisting the dog has a perfectly good bed on the floor.

We've been sleeping in the same bed for a while now. Sometimes I go days without waking up from a nightmare. The dreams are still bad most of them time, but not full fledged nightmares. I guess this is considered improvement. He says I do all right as long as I'm touching him. I hadn't noticed.

It scares me though. I know he's hoping... In the end he's the kind of person who has eternal hope that things will be ok.

I'm going to disappoint him. I know I will.

**December 5, 2009**

Christmas is only a few weeks away. God how is it even possible? Needless to say, the mood isn't terribly festive here. He's trying, but I just don't feel it. He says we should be celebrating. Celebrate what exactly?

How entirely fucked up I am and that all I have left to look forward to is existing?

I know exactly the look he'd give me if I say it out loud though so I don't.

Besides, I've already been a huge disappointment to him I'm sure. I don't actively try to hurt him if I can help it. Maybe the only thing I'll ever be good at is being Wesker's slave.

We did start sparring again. It feels good to be doing it. You'd think I'd never want to fight again after all I've been through. But this is what I know. We're only going at about a 3 on our 1-10 scale, but it's something. At least I feel like I'm _doing_ something. Stupid I know.

The BSAA has requested I come in for a debrief. Chris says they probably want a pysche eval as well. I told them to piss off. I lost enough of my life thanks to them. I don't owe them anything else.

As usual all he'll say is that it never hurts to listen to what they have to say. That I can always say no later. Say no to what? Years of tests before they decide I'm fit for some kind of duty? No thanks.

I haven't any idea what I'm going to do with this shell of a life I have but I don't belong on the front lines any more.

Maybe I never did.

**December 13, 2009**

The first time I remember him raping me Excella made an effort to stop it. I don't have any grand illusions that she did it out of any kind of sympathy for me. She did it because she hated sharing his attention.

Sometimes he pumped me so full of P30 I could barely breathe. Other times he wanted me able to struggle, if not actually fight back. Hurting me was one of his favorite past times. He did it in as many ways as he could possibly think of and then some.

On the rare occasion he didn't leave me bleeding in one way or another he'd toss me back into my cell. Still better than being in the cryo tank.

I think I preferred it when he hurt me so badly he had to leave me alone. He wanted to break me, but he didn't want a broken toy so he couldn't just kill me.

Life would have been too easy if that were the case.

I often wonder what Chris would be doing now if I had died. All he'll tell me is that he was in bad shape after the fall. But he's strong and I have no doubt he would have recovered. I think it would have been easier for him if I'd died. Then he wouldn't be wasting his time on such a lost cause.

It makes me sad, thinking about how much effort he's wasted on me. All in the hope I will be the person he fell in love with. But I can't be because she's still dead.

**December 24, 2009**

It's almost midnight and Chris is asleep. For some reason the fact that it's almost Christmas bothers me. So I'm awake. Writing. Louie decided to get up with me. He's keeping my feet warm. Such a sweet boy. I think Chris is a bit tired of jogging with me. He's never been much for it. So I take Louie with me now.

We're still sparring, going a little harder than before. Still not where we were. That's ok though. I'm not sure I want to be at that point again. I fear I might hurt him. Sometimes I have flashes when we spar. From that day. At first he'd stop. Now he makes me push through it. Tells me I didn't hurt him then, I wouldn't now.

But I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I have a beast coiled up inside of me, just waiting for a chance to strike.

I've felt these brief flashes of... something... hope maybe? But they never last long before they fade and I know it's a lost cause. I think I'm going to have to settle for this emptiness. Maybe it's not so bad.

I suppose I should return to bed now. I don't want him waking up while I'm downstairs. It makes him worry even more. Besides, I'm cold. He's always warm. I missed that so much while I was gone.

–

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. The director blog went down and Tumblr hasn't been all t hat responsive about getting it back up. Most of my drafts for Dec were sitting there when it puked all over itself. Right now I'm running the blog at bsaadirector-jredfield. Tumblr. Com I don't know if I'll ever get the directorjredfield one back or not.


	4. Jan - Mar 2010

**January 1, 2010**

Brand new year. Usually a time of hope. I'm not sure what it is for me.

Chris said something to me last night and I've been thinking about it since. Just before midnight. He looked at me and told me eventually I was going to have to make a decision. Wekser had taken so much of my life, but would I let him take any more of it?

Then he gently held my face in his hands and kissed me at midnight. I don't know that he's ever kissed me like that before in all our years together.

And I didn't want to run away.

**January 17, 2010**

I feel like I've spent the last few weeks just processing. Everything that happened. The things that happened to me. That happened in the outside world. Some things I'm not prepared to process. They just hurt too much. The thought of them alone leave me a quivering puddle on the floor.

At my insistence, we have upped our sparring matches. Chris feared he would hurt me. I had to laugh. When he was on the ground I think he finally realized the extent of the changes I still carry with me. The look on his face... he's never looked at me like that before. With fear. But maybe it had to happen for him to understand. I don't think he will make the mistake of underestimating me again.

Claire showed up at the cabin a few days ago. I can remember our friendship in my head, but I can't feel it any longer. She hugged me before Chris could stop her and she seemed upset when I didn't return the gesture. I don't know what she expected of me.

The BSAA is still requesting that I come in. But they won't tell me any details. I have declined.

**January 24, 2010**

I have never, in all my years, seen Chris Redfield embarrassed. Until today. The look of utter surprise on his face when I walked into the bathroom and found him getting out of the shower was something I will never forget.

I thought I had forgotten how to laugh, really laugh.

Until today.

**February 2, 2010**

There were times after Wesker used me, that he would send me back to my cell... the door never had to be locked since I was forbidden to leave... he would send me back then make me sleep on the floor. Not that the mattress he had on the floor was much, but it wasn't the floor. No matter what time of year it was, the floor was always freezing cold.

It took me a long time to figure out why he did it. At least besides the power of it. In the end he had ultimate control over me and he knew it. But that wasn't enough. He wanted to humiliate me as well. To shame me into feeling less than I was.

In some ways he succeeded.

Sometimes I wonder if he did it because he knew what it would do to Chris if he knew. He hated me, hated what I stood for. But he hated Chris more.

**February 14, 2010**

I woke up this morning sprawled across Chris. He laughed when I asked about it, asked me how I thought I had been sleeping. Truthfully I hadn't thought about it much, just assumed we had kept to our sides of the bed. He didn't let me go, kept his arms around me and laughed again. Then he asked when I last had a nightmare.

It's been a while, but I don't really keep track of the days. I realized it had been a few weeks at least. I'd even had nights where I don't remember _bad_ dreams. Dreams at all really. When did this happen? I'm not sure.

It didn't occur to me until later... I felt safe. Laying there with him. Safe.

**February 26, 2010**

My birthday is in a few days. Am I thankful to be having another one? I don't know for sure. Getting older wasn't something I ever thought much about really.

But now I wonder if any of it was worth it. I mean, have I done anything with my life? Has anything I've done made a difference? I don't have the answer to that either.

I know all the pain I caused. All the damage. Maybe the rest of my life is about making amends for that.

**March 10, 2010**

I agreed to meet with the BSAA. As anticipated they wanted a full medical work up. They also had the nerve to ask when I planned on returning to the field.

Truth is, I don't think I ever will. I'm not sure there will ever be a point in time I won't be a liability out there.

There was a welcome party there as well. People who mostly seemed genuinely happy to see me. But I didn't know what to say to them. They left me for dead out there. Never believed I was alive. Would I have done the same to them? I would like to think the answer is no. But since I'm not that Jill Valentine any more I don't know.

**March 29, 2010**

Screaming. All I could hear was screaming. And the sound of the little girl crying, sharp heart breaking sobs. The first one. I can't forget her, no matter how hard I try. She didn't have a chance to be infected before she was ripped apart. And even though I didn't do it myself, I'm the reason it happened.

I tried covering my ears to block out the sound. But it didn't help.

Then I heard his voice calling my name. "Jill, you're all right. You're here. With me."

The noise changed then and I felt Chris pick me up. Louie was barking. It was the bark he uses when he's nervous, agitated about something. And waves, I could hear the waves.

Somehow I had fallen asleep outside on the chair. I was shivering, sunset in full effect and despite the relative warmth of the day it was fading fast. The sand not even warm now. At least that's what I told myself. I had no other reason for it, right?

"There's no screaming here," he whispered in my ear. "It's just the waves." Chris carried me inside, Louie barking at his heels and when he set me down on the couch I didn't want him to let me go.

And he didn't. He's never let me go.


	5. April - June 2010

**April 7, 2010**

We have finally returned to our usual level of sparring. Not just me pushing him to it.

When we do it, I can feel the beast coiled inside of me, feel it rear it's ugly head. Right now I can control it, but will I always be able to? At some point will my control slip?

And if that happens, what then? Will people understand what a danger I am to them then?

**April 16, 2010**

I found myself wanting to touch him. My fingers itched with it. Moved of their own will across his body. He said nothing, held perfectly still while I did it.

There were some things I thought I'd lost forever. Maybe they're not as lost as I thought.

As much as I know he wanted to touch me he didn't. He didn't so much as take a deep breath while my hands moved over him. It wasn't until I laid next to him and pulled his arm around me that he moved again.

I don't know what I've done to deserve his patience but I'm grateful for it.

**April 23, 2010**

The BSAA has formally offered me my SOA position back with Chris as my partner. He says he has no opinion on the matter. We both know that's a lie. But I understand he wants me to make my own decision on this.

The weather is getting warm again finally. The water is still cold but some of the chill is gone.

What about me? Is it leaving me finally?

**May 2, 2010**

We will be returning to the apartment in a few weeks. As much as I wish I could stay here, he's right about something. The world continues on, whether you want it to or not. And if I stay here forever Wesker wins. He's taken everything from me but this place.

I don't have to go back to the BSAA. I don't even have to stay there. But I do have to step back into the world. Accept the changes. Then if I want to leave again it's because I chose to do it. Not because I'm hiding.

Truthfully I don't have the slightest idea what I'm going to do when I go back. Eventually Chris is going to go back to work. He can't baby sit me forever. While he insists he will stay with me however long it takes, he has a life outside of me. Or at least he used to.

**May 14, 2010**

I don't know how to explain it, despite having been thinking about it non stop for a few days now. I'm not sure what happened. I just...

We were sitting on the beach watching Louie chase the waves. It's a favorite past time of his these days. Keeping him out of the water is an impossible task. We've just given up on it.

I realized at some point I was laughing. And I _felt_ it. When I looked at Chris I felt something inside of me shift, break loose.

I knew I would be all right. I'm not saying everything is fine or that I have it all figured out. But I will. Eventually.

**May 16, 2010**

Maybe it was forever ago that Chris and I made love in this cabin. Before the Spencer estate. That time seems like a hundred lifetimes ago some days.

Today it was closer than ever. Maybe because he used it to break down the final wall. We made a promise to each other that night. Something that was destroyed by Wesker.

Or at least I thought it was. But apparently not.

Wesker tried to destroy us, destroy me. But he didn't. He made me stronger.

And all of this has made me love Chris that much more. Something the man himself never doubted.

I guess it just took me a while to catch up.

**June 1, 2010**

We've been back for a few weeks. Honestly it hasn't been as difficult as I anticipated. Not easy by any means, but not as bad as I planned. There were a few nightmares initially. But those have gone for the most part. Sometimes I still wake up and can hear the screams. Not always. Though I know they live somewhere in that realm between sleep and awake. They always will I think.

There was a welcome home party of sorts. I only lasted an hour or so before it became overwhelming and I had to leave. Too much at once I think. And too many people who want to talk about what happened. They need to just leave it alone. It belongs to me, not them.

Chris has gone back to work, at least on a limited basis. Right now he's training a new team. Keeping his eyes open for other recruits as well. The BSAA has always been short on qualified people. Chris has been using his time to scout some of them. He has never done well at sitting still,but for my sake he's managed. This is a good thing for him. He needs to work.

I'm still at a loss for what to do. He's brought home some files for me to go through. People he thinks have potential. It gives me something to do I suppose, but he's better at this than I am. It's something to focus on at least.

It's enough for now. Until I can figure out what I'm supposed to do with my life. I spent so much of it fighting bioterrorism then it was turned around and I was used to create it. It seems no matter what I do, I can't escape it. Do I embrace it again because it's what I've always done, or walk away because it nearly destroyed me once?

**June 17, 2010**

I had a dream last night. We were at the mansion again and Chris was on the ground. I don't think he was dead, but I'm not sure. Wesker stood there, gloating. Talking about how he was going to be a God.

The same speech I heard from him many times over.

He grabbed me by the throat and I could feel him squeezing. I didn't fight him. Instead I smiled at him.

Before I put my gun in his face and pulled the trigger until it was empty.

When he fell to the ground I stood there, covered in his blood, and knew it was over. He was dead.

**June 22, 2010**

The BSAA requested to meet with me. I have declined to go back as a field agent. I just... I still don't think I'm all right to be back in that capacity.

When I met with them I assumed they were going to ask me to come back again. I realize I have a different perspective than anyone else there, but I still don't want to go back. I'm a danger to anyone who would be partnered with me.

I explained this. Asked them to please quit asking me.

Clive smiled. Told me they were offering me a different position. One that didn't require me to be in the field. In fact frowned upon it.

They want me to be Director.

Have they lost their minds?


	6. July - Sept 2010

**July 04, 2010**

I have now turned them down twice for the Director position. Seriously, I haven't the slightest idea what they're thinking. At all. Chris tries to act like he doesn't think the whole thing is amusing but I know that's a lie. He has yet, however, to chime in with his opinion.

Louie thinks I should stay home with him all the time.

I almost agree.

Except then Wesker wins. Then he owns my life.

And that's not ok.

**July 17, 2010**

Chris says he wants to buy a house. He's tired of walking the dog and a dog "needs a yard". Yeah, he's not going to be saying that when it needs to be mowed.

But truthfully it would be nice. We always lived in the city, but I find my taste for it has waned. I'd rather have some quiet.

I don't see the white picket fence happening though.

**July 30, 2010**

I saw a specialist today. Maybe it was a morbid curiosity. I don't now what prompted me to do it.

The look of surprise on his face would have made me laugh if I hadn't expected it. With that seriousness all doctor's seem to have he explained about the scar tissue and about how it doesn't have the same elasticity as regular tissue. I knew this already. He also said one side was completely blocked with it. But the other side didn't have as much as my file had indicated.

I don't know if the last doc just missed it or if somehow my body has rectified some of the damage.

But in the end I was surprised by what he told me.

Children might not be as far out of the question as I had been lead to believe. It wouldn't be easy, but also not impossible.

I don't think either of us are ready for that, not for a good long while anyway.

But it's good to know.

**August 7, 2010**

Third time is not a charm. Clive hasn't given up yet but I'm getting annoyed with his insistence on the matter.

No, I still haven't the slightest idea what I want to do. But I won't risk putting people in danger.

**August 23, 2010**

We might have found a house. We both like it. There's a huge fenced in yard for Louie.

Of course there's the whole house buying process to get through.

Chris has found a few new people he thinks he wants to recruit. One of them, a Nivans kid, will be close by in a few days and Chris wants to go talk to him. It will be the first night we've spend apart since I've been back.

Part of me thinks it's about time. Part of me dreads it. I'm not good company, especially for myself. Not to mention I haven't slept without him in how long now?

I told him to go. His life doesn't revolve around me, nor should it. But I admit, I fear what will happen while he's gone. I haven't had a nightmare in I can't remember how long. What if he's the only thing keeping them at bay?

He made me agree Louie wouldn't sleep on his side of the bed while he's gone. We both know it's a lie.

I'm desperately trying not to let him see how much it worries me. That's not fair to him. I know he'd skip it if I asked him to. He'd make other arrangements if I told him not to go. But that's not the way it needs to be.

I'm a big girl. I can do this. Right?

**September 4, 2010**

The house is ours. Of course we don't have nearly enough furniture for it and neither of us wants to do the shopping. Maybe we can convince Claire to do it or something.

It seems Chris' visit with the Nivans kid went well. I can tell he likes him. Said he's accurate at a scary distance. He's put in for the kid's transfer so I guess that means he wants to join us. There are a few more h wants to go meet with but I suspect he's spreading them out so I'm not left alone too often or too many days in a row.

No nightmares, but bad dreams. Not as bad as I anticipated, but worse than I'd hoped. Oh well, it's something I guess.

I've spent the last week going in to help train the recruits. Some firearms, some hand to hand. Feels good to do something.

**September 18, 2010**

I have agreed to act as Interim Director. Clive can't stay and they really don't have anyone else. I initially turned it down but Chris asked me to. Said he'd rather have me in the position instead of some idiot they found elsewhere.

When you put it like that, how can a girl resist?

I look at him sometimes and wonder what I did to deserve him. Karma is a bitch and she's going to slap me hard... I know it. There's no way in hell I can ever make up for my past sins.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay guys... real life has been a bit wonky. There will be one more chapter after this.


	7. Oct - Dec 2010

**October 1, 2010**

There was a name in the files Chris gave me to go through that I want to keep an eye on. Finn Macauley. He's not ready yet, still entirely too young and inexperienced. But I think he's worth keeping tabs on.

Life as Director is... busy. Quint is in charge of R&D these days and mostly on top of everything so he sort of acts as a buffer for me. Which is a bit of a relief because there are times he takes care of things before I even know they are an issue.

Chris said there's something he wants to talk to me about... but not for a few days. I haven't the slightest idea what he's up to but he's been awful chipper lately.

**October 19, 2010**

A Halloween party. He has apparently decided we're having one. At the house.

As usual he's lost his little mind.

But he did find a dinosaur costume for Louie. Yeah, good luck with that.

While I know I'd be happier if it wasn't happening at our house, I admit I feel a familiar spark of excitement. No costume for me, I think. But I sort of remember why I loved this holiday so much.

**October 30, 2010**

I'm not sure I've ever seen him so calm. Sunday morning he asked me to marry him. Said he'd lived enough of his life without me and wasn't prepared to do it again.

I said yes.

**November 5, 2010**

Rumors are stirring about a new group. A new Umbrella. It seems the legacy Umbrella left behind will never die. First TriCell, now this. So far it doesn't have a name, but it's already casting a shadow. Minor outbreaks in smaller, less advanced countries. Perfect places for testing new strains and BOWs. Not enough military presence to do anything about it and the governments are mostly corrupt and don't care if their own people are tested on.

I'm trying to put together smaller teams, rapid response teams that don't need a full blown deployment to move. I feel we need to start keeping more teams in other places, not just having them come out of the various HQs. The BSAA spends way too much time reacting instead of acting. While I understand we have issues in certain areas, we need to be protecting life. And we just don't seem to be doing enough of that.

**November 13, 2010**

Claire has refused to allow us a quick wedding at the courthouse. I don't know exactly what she said to Chris, but he's caved on the matter. I suspect there were threats.

She also hinted he has been wanting to ask for a while. Possibly before the Spencer Estate. That makes me sad...

Since I refuse to plan a wedding Claire has taken over. I only have to "show up", but there was also talk of a fitting.

**November 24, 2010**

This year we are going to celebrate Thanksgiving. It's a small gathering, but it's with the people who mean the most to us. For one day everything else can wait. No emergencies. No crisis that needs my undivided attention...

I'm finally thankful I didn't die in Africa.

**December 10, 2010**

No time for a honeymoon... maybe after the first of the year. Too much going on. Claire did a fine job of things, even if it wasn't how I'd have preferred to do it.

Right now I'm trying to put together more teams. So much is happening in the world and really, no one but the BSAA is prepared for some of it. Countries still want to ignore that bio terrorism is a full blown threat, still want to hide their head in the sand. I don't know how to change this and the attitude that if you ignore it, it will go away frustrates me to no end.

I haven't had a full blown nightmare in months now. The bad dreams are also less frequent.

Christmas is close and I have no idea what to get Chris.

**December 22, 2010**

We have snow. I still hate snow. Hate the feeling of being cold. Louie seems to hate it too and prefers to lay on my feet any chance he gets. Chris has promised more than enough firewood, tea and hot chocolate for the duration of the winter.

For some reason the cold makes me think more about Africa than anything else these days. Despite the climate I was always cold. The kind of cold that claws its way into you and settles in your bones.

On days like today I can still feel that.

**December 31, 2010**

Another new year on the horizon and I look back where I was a year ago... wow.

So much has happened since then. Most of it good, but not all of it. I still struggle with everything that's happened. And I'm still not sure who I am anymore.

But that's ok. I've got time to figure it out. And there will be people by my side when I need them.

Tonight I'll be burning this journal. I don't need it any more. As it burns it's taking the last of Wesker with it.

I have a new life now. And it's mine.

I won't share it.

…

Sorry this took so long to finish! LOL this is why I rarely post stuff in progress... cause real life too often gets in the way and people are left hanging. I hate that myself. Hopefully the pay off was worth it. - Labrynth


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